Old Farm Fairies Part 28

What should I do? Think quickly, Dodge! and think well, for your life hangs upon this moment's decision. I heard the sharp cry of Madam Labyrinthea. I could feel the swing of her body as she threw herself upon the ladder that led up to the trap door. In another moment she would be upon the roof and I should be discovered. My first thought was to slide down to the ground and run for it. But a second thought was better. Just before me swung within the maze a triple cradle or coc.o.o.n string provided for the young Labyrintheans. I had already, in one of my former night adventures, cut open one of these, and made a burrow within. I hardly knew at the time why I did this, but it was one of my old dodges (which I had taught Sergeant Clearview, by the way), when out on a scout to take refuge in one of these vacant Pixie baby houses. They are snug and comfortable places, too. Now I saw what to do! I swung myself, by a line across the intervening s.p.a.ce, pushed open the little slit in the side of the coc.o.o.n, crawled within, curled myself up, drew down the flap closely, and waited.[AU] My heart beat a tattoo. I could see nothing, but heard the feet of Labyrinthea rattling over the roof; felt the tremor of the lines as she sprang from them, after a pause, during which I guessed that she was looking around for me. I heard her loud alarm to the guards; felt the shaking of the Labyrinth foundations as the Pixies ran to and fro; more than once felt the pressure of feet clambering over the coc.o.o.ns in the hurried rush across the maze.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 101.--Labyrinthea's Coc.o.o.n String.]

There was great commotion at the gate of the jail; then the din lessened, grew faint, rolled away and died out in the distance. No one had thought of my retreat as a possible hiding place. For the present at least, I was safe, though much cramped in my close quarters. I opened the slit for a breath of fresh air, and ventured to look out. All was still. Shall I slip out now or not? I queried. No! The whole Pixie host is afoot, beating the bushes in every quarter. I cannot run such a gauntlet of eager searchers without detection. I will wait until the pursuers are tired out and have returned. They will give me up, will relax guard around the prison, and beyond it the coast will be clear.

So I did. I heard the returning guards; heard Labyrinthea puffing and storming up the stairway to her dome, and as I kept the slit in the coc.o.o.n a little ajar could even make out her angry oaths. Her disappointment at my escape evidently softened her toward her gallants, for I heard her exchanging views with the one whom she had lashed away from her in the morning, over the mysterious disappearance of her prisoner. How could he have got off unnoticed? It was plain from the talk that Spite suspected the keeper herself of some connivance at my escape; but I wasn't much concerned about that.

As the day dawned everything was quiet. The keeper and guards were asleep. Now is my time, I thought. So I left my cramped but cosy silken retreat, slid down the ropes to the ground, and glided away into the gra.s.s. I got safely through the Pixie lines, made myself known to our own pickets, and here I am, thankful and happy as ever Brownie was or will be!

Dodge's story was eagerly listened to, and he was heartily congratulated upon his rare good fortune. Bruce and his officers questioned him about all that he had seen within the enemy's lines, and drew from him much valuable information. Then as a reward for his skill and pluck, and as a salve for his sufferings, he was promoted to be a sergeant and went away jubilant to his quarters.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AQ: Appendix, Note A.]

[Footnote AR: Appendix, Note B.]

[Footnote AS: Appendix, Note C.]

[Footnote AT: Appendix, Note D.]

[Footnote AU: Appendix, Note E.]

CHAPTER XXIII.

A GHOST STORY.

The Ken, it will be remembered, made for Ellen's Isle, when pursued by the Pixie Rain. Lieutenant Swift never checked her speed until he had run his ship under the shelter of the northern sh.o.r.e. Thence he rejoined the fleet, after the Ram had gone down, and sailed on with Rodney up the channel.

c.o.xswain Help steered for the island. The Stygians lay between him and his own fleet, and should he make for Orchard sh.o.r.e he would risk capture. Ellen's Isle was nearest; his boat was overloaded; the Ken seemed to be already there awaiting them under the northern bank.

"Give way heartily, lads," he said, "we shall soon be on board the Ken."

The sailors pulled with a will, and although loaded down almost to the gunwale, the boat made fair speed. The sinking of the Ram, which they saw quite plainly, put fresh vigor into their arms. They could hardly hold in their cheers; but Help ordered silence, as he had no wish to call the Pixies' attention to them. The island was reached, but a sore disappointment awaited them, for the Ken had gone on, and the Nattie ships were far up the channel. Clearview climbed atop of a bush and looked across the island to the south channel.

"There is the Pixie squadron crowding on all sail toward the inlet," he said. "The Stygians are not yet in sight of our fleet, but it cannot be long before they meet. Look yonder to the north! The other half of the Pixie fleet has sailed out of the harbor, and is running up the channel." Now the officers consulted as to what should be done.

"My duty is on the water," said Help, "I yield the chief command to our superior officer, Adjutant Blythe. Captain Clearview will take command of the boat. I shall lend a hand wherever I can."

"Very good," said Blythe; "but let us settle what is to be done first.

We can fix the matter of rank afterward."

"Well said, Adjutant," remarked True. "In our condition the readiest helper has the highest rank. Let him lead us, who knows how to get us out of trouble. Can't we cross the south channel? That's our own side, you know."

"Not in one trip of our boat," said Clearview. "It was shipping water freely before we landed. The distance to the south sh.o.r.e is much greater than that which we have come. We might divide and make two trips, but that doubles the risk, and gives less chance to the party left behind should the Pixies land here. Suppose we wait until the fleets meet, and act as may then seem best. See! even while we speak, one of the Pixie ships is landing at the head of the island."

"Can you make her out, Captain?" asked Help.

"Yes, it's the Doubt, Master Shallow's craft. I would know the cut of her jib among a thousand."

"What are they doing?" asked Blythe. "Are they sending boats ash.o.r.e?"

"Yes, they have anch.o.r.ed off the Big Rocks; and one, two, three boats are pulling into the cove above."

"Three, did you say?" returned Blythe. "Then let us attack them, and we shall have enough boats wherewith to leave the island. I feel that I could almost clean out a boat load myself."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 102.--"Abandoned Snares."]

"No, no, Adjutant!" answered True; "n.o.body doubts either your ability or appet.i.te for fighting Pixies. But we can't afford to take such a risk.

My advice is that we run our boat under these clumps of iris, and bivouac for a while beneath the thick foliage that crowns yonder bank.

We shall be out of sight, shall have time to rest the men, and can then get off safely. We have everything to gain by waiting."

True's advice was taken. The boat was hidden, a snug bivouac was made near a clump of hazel bushes upon the high land beyond the sh.o.r.e, and the crew threw themselves upon the gra.s.s to rest. Scouts were sent out to beat around the neighboring foliage in search of lurking Pixies.

There were many signs that they had lately been upon the spot, such as abandoned snares and vacant lodges, and deserted nurseries woven into b.a.l.l.s from the seeded and feathery tops of gra.s.ses. Apparently, all who could march or sail or move through the air had gone off to join the Pixie forces on land or water. Only a colony of youngling Orbweavers remained snugly tented around a Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Most of them were balled in a round ma.s.s under one of the leaves, packed together, with legs and arms intertwined, and sound asleep.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 103.--"Vacant Lodges."]

One of the Scouts was keen to mount the plants, cut the tent cords and disperse the brood of younglings. But Blythe forbade, "for," said he, "they'll keep under cover while we are on the island, and it's always wise to let well enough alone. They can do us no harm, so we'll not harm them."

Now, Captain Clearview and Sergeant True climbed into a tree to note how the two fleets came on. With a heavy heart they saw their squadron, after a brief struggle, sail away toward the inlet. The Doubt rejoined her companions, but one of her boats remained upon the island. What could that portend?

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 104.--"Deserted Nurseries Woven into b.a.l.l.s."]

Clearview and True told what they had seen, and urged all to guard against surprise. Their enemies were on the island. How many there were, or for what purpose they stayed, or where they might be, none knew. They were probably still in the eastern end, and would not at once annoy the Brownies, whose presence they could not suspect. Sentinels were posted toward the land side, and one lookout upon the sh.o.r.e.

So the morning pa.s.sed, and the afternoon had nearly worn away. The fleets had not changed their positions. The Stygians still guarded the inlet, but the heavy davids mounted at the mouth thereof held them in check. Two or three Pixie vessels were slowly sailing down the north channel coasting along the island. There had been no sign of the Doubt's mysterious boat's crew. All was quiet. No chance yet to escape.

A squad under Help's command was sent out to forage. They had not been gone long when the little camp was aroused by an alarm from one of the sentinels. The Brownies sprang to arms, thinking that the Doubt's boat crew had attacked them. There was a sound as of feet trampling among ferns and gra.s.ses. Some one was approaching rapidly,--several persons evidently; and they were charging at full run upon the picket line.

"Stand!" cried the guard. "Who goes there?"

There was no reply. Then one of the sailors of Help's squad, and a second, and a third leaped from the underbrush, sprang by the sentinel regardless of his challenge, and ran into the midst of the camp. They were breathless, pale, trembling, terrified.

"Well," cried Blythe, "this is something new, truly! Full sized Brownies, and Natties at that, running like a frightened rabbit from a Pixie! Why, comrades, what has possessed you? Speak, can't you?" They could not speak. The poor fellows were so overcome that they had to sit down. Water was given them, and they revived.

"Come, now," said True firmly, "this has gone far enough. What is the cause of this?"

One of the three could just utter the single word--"Pipe!" The very name set the sailors shivering again with terror.

"This is most unaccountable!" exclaimed Blythe. "What do you mean, fellow? What about Pipe? Do you mean our poor boatswain who was lost this morning?"

"Yes--yes!" gasped the sailor. "We--have--seen--him! Oh, oh!" He uttered a cry as he spoke, jumped to his feet, threw up his arms, pointed toward the picket line and fell flat upon the gra.s.s.